ses.

"Hands up!" ordered the mine owner sharply.

The answer was a streak of fire from a rifle. Instantly there followed a
fusillade. Flash after flash lit up the darkness. Staccato oaths, cries, a
moan of pain, the trampling of frightened horses, filled the night with
confusion.

In spite of the shout of warning, the situation had come upon the bandits
as a complete surprise. How many were against them, whether or not they
were betrayed, the certainty that the law had at last taken them at a
disadvantage--these things worked with the darkness for the posse. A man
flung himself on his pony, lay low on its back, and galloped wildly into
the night. A second wheeled and followed at his heels. Hank Irwin was
down, with a bullet from a carbine through his jaw and the back of his
head. A wild shot had brought down another. Of the outlaws only MacQueen,
standing behind his horse as he fired, remained on the field uninjured.

The cattlemen had scattered as the firing began, and had availed
themselves of such cover as was to be had. Now they concentrated their
fire on the leader of the outlaws. His horse staggered and went down,
badly torn by a rifle bullet. A moment later the special thirty-two
carbine he carried was knocked from his hands by another shot.

He crouched and ran to Irwin's horse, flung himself to the saddle,
deliberately emptied his revolver at his foes, and put spurs to the
broncho. As he vanished into the hills Bob Farnum slowly sank to the
ground.

"I've got mine, Bellamy. Blamed if he ain't plumb bust my laig!"

The mine owner covered the two wounded outlaws, while his men disarmed
them. Then he walked across to his friend, laid down his rifle, and knelt
beside him.

"Did he get you bad, old man?"

"Bad enough so I reckon I'll have a doc look at it one of these days." Bob
grinned to keep down the pain.

Once more there came the sound of hoofs beating the trail of decomposed
granite. Bellamy looked up and grasped his rifle. A single rider loomed
out of the darkness and dragged his horse to a halt, a dozen yards from
the mine owner, in such a position that he was directly behind one of the
pack horses.

"Up with your hands!" ordered Bellamy on suspicion.

Two hands went swiftly up from beside the saddle. The moonlight gleamed on
something bright in the right hand. A flash rent the night. A jagged,
red-hot pain tore through the shoulder of Hal Yarnell. He fired wildly,
the shock having spoiled hi